SURVIVAL LOOMS ON THE HORIZON
Perhaps this cold will not be the death of me. Not just yet, anyway.
Even just two days ago it seemed the symptoms would not abate. I put in an emergency afternoon call to Susan, who was hard at work at her desk. "If I don't get more Chicken Soup I will certainly die!" I exclaimed with what little voice was left, "It just won't go away."
Then I broke into the persistent cough, asked her to hold on while I blew my nose and coughed some more. "Okay," said Susan, "I get it. This is an emergency. I'll come over afer work, with Chicken Soup and other necessities to keep you alive."
So obviously the only reason I am alive at this very moment is because Susan found it in her heart to bring over four more quarts of Chicken Soup (with the attendant Motzah Balls), plus some more Matjes Herring, White Anchovies, a Challah, and a few bunches of blackberries and blueberries.
The Chicken Soup (et al) seems to have done the trick. Yesterday and today my voice began to return. The productive cough is still there, but there is less gunk in the process. And I can stay awake longer, and actually breathe through both nostrils most of the day.
Yes, I may just live. This will not become the death blog.
It is all due to Susan, bringing me the Jewish Penicillin when I was at Death's door; The Angel of Death moments away from grabbing me. Maybe they need a starting Second Baseman on The Angel's team.